


you simply must meet thomas, thoMAS

by CyrusBreeze



Series: The Other 51 [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Internalized Acephobia, Internalized Homophobia, Other, that’s why the title is funny, this was supposed to be funny and then it got serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 16:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13814769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: Thomas Jefferson wasn’t gay, or bisexual for that matter, or even remotely attracted to men. Which is why, when Alexander Hamilton walked into his office and every ounce of Thomas’s blood rushed to his cock, Thomas was horrified.





	you simply must meet thomas, thoMAS

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS SET IN 2002. 
> 
> I feel like that reminder is super important when considering the context of this story. 
> 
> Anyway, you know the drill. I wrote this when I should’ve been sleeping or during class, no promises about quality, too much Mountain Dew, snacks, carsickness, etc.
> 
> This story was originally supposed to be humorous and then it wasn’t. So, oops. 
> 
> I have to post this story so that the story I’m posting later in the week sorta makes sense. Then, I’ll go back and write about Thomas completely accepting himself and possibly beginning a relationship with our man, Alex, probably. Anyway, there’s that. 
> 
> This is directly related to the Love Doesn’t Discriminate between the sinners and the saints; it [gives] and it [gives] and it [gives] which is now the official universe for fics related to this one. Starting at some point, I will be posting other fandoms in the Other 51 challenge and will probably also be handling different verses of Hamilton fanfiction. So if you only like this verse and want to keep up with it, be sure to follow/bookmark the Love Doesn’t verse rather than
> 
> Triggers: besides homophobia and acephobia, there’s a reference to the AIDS crisis and a blink and you’ll miss it implication of corrective rape. Therapy is also involved. Let me know if I need to add any others. 
> 
> Also, huge fucking shoutout to Oliver_Ravenwood for being my sounding board during this process and putting up with so much of my shit. They’re an angel, and they have some super great fics so I highly recommend checking them out. They honestly deserve like 50 medals for dealing with my shit.
> 
> And finally: this story is dedicated to my own anomaly, who is fucking amazing.

Thomas Jefferson wasn’t gay. He didn’t hate gay people; he wasn’t one of those Republicans. In fact, he firmly believed that the government should stay out of people’s bedrooms and that marriage was a social institution for tax purposes, and not a covenant with God. 

He wasn’t homophobic. After all, his wife had been a lesbian. Nevermind that they had only had sex about four times in their lives, two of which resulted in conception of their children. In any case, Thomas wasn’t gay, or bisexual for that matter, or even remotely attracted to men. Which is why, when Alexander Hamilton walked into his office and every ounce of Thomas’s blood rushed to his cock, Thomas was horrified. 

Hamilton was certainly attractive, in the way that Thomas knew that he probably had tons of female suitors. His hair was gorgeous, long for the politics world, but gorgeous. And his eyes were stunning, brown and twinkling and wild. 

“Sir?” 

Hamilton’s voice jolted Thomas out of his thoughts. How long had he been staring at the man? 

“Sorry,” Thomas apologized, flashing his signature winning grin. “I just zoned out for a moment.” 

Alex winked. He actually winked. Thomas felt like he was going to die. At least he was sitting at his desk and his erection was sufficiently hidden. Not that his erection was related to the objectively attractive man standing in front of him. They were two, unrelated entities. His erection was just a coincidence considering that Thomas hadn’t gotten laid in months, years actually. Not that he minded, it took a lot for him to be interested in sex. Which was why there was no way that he was attracted to Hamilton. 

“I’m Thomas Jefferson,” He said, sticking his hand across his desk so that he didn’t have to stand up. 

“Alexander Hamilton,” the man said, firmly shaking Thomas’s hand. Of course, Thomas knew that. He was Philip Schuyler’s son-in-law. The realization of which sent a mixture of relief and disappointment crashing over Thomas. Relief because the man was married and, straight, and disappointment because well, Thomas couldn’t place it, but it probably had something to do with single people being more committed and nothing at all to do with Thomas being attracted to Hamilton. 

Hamilton released his hand after what was probably an uncomfortably long period of time. Thomas closed his eyes and definitely did not think of the man’s stunning brown eyes. Instead, he considered the photos from the latest senator sex scandal. He didn’t remember who it was, just that he was old and that his ass was wrinkly. His boner dissipated after less than a minute. 

Thomas gave what he hoped was a reassuring and a, I’m definitely not attracted to you smile. “Welcome aboard,” he said cheerily. “And for the record, Mr. Hamilton, I’m heterosexual.” Thomas immediately chastised himself. Who said that, especially after immediately meeting your new intern? Could that be construed as sexual harassment? Thomas prayed not, scandals like these tended to make their way to the paper very quickly. 

Hamilton eyed him skeptically. “Thank you for letting me know,” he said with that goddamned twinkle in his eye. 

Thomas was 99% sure that Alexander Hamilton was going to be the death of him. 

Philip Schuyler definitely owed him a bottle of Macallan Private Eye. 

-X- 

“How’d you know you were gay?” Thomas asked his best friend and Virginia house representative later that night as they were drinking beer later that evening. 

“I’m not gay,” James said. “I’m asex-” 

Jefferson cut him off. “It’s the same thing, practically, but how’d you know?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” James asked. “I’m not going to judge you, Thomas.” 

Thomas looked down and wrung his hands. He wasn’t gay or bisexual or asexual or anything like that. He would know by now, right? Didn’t most of the people that were out and proud in the media say that they knew in preschool? 

“Fine,” James rolled his eyes at Thomas. “Don’t answer. I didn’t find out I was asexual until after I married Dolley. I tried so hard to be interested. Our wedding night was a disaster. I couldn’t even get it up and Dolley was humiliated. I always thought I was supposed to be excited about sex after I got married, like we would sign a piece of paper and everything would change. I grew up in church with the knowledge that marriage was the only place for sex, so I didn’t see a big issue in not being sexually attracted to my spouse until after we were married. It got so bad after a year of awful sex that we saw a sex therapist. She was the first person to suggest that I might be asexual.”

“And Dolley was okay with that?” Thomas asked. He didn’t understand. He and his wife had argued for more than two years before Thomas had given up and given Martha permission to see and have relationships with other people.

“She was really hurt at first, and we both felt guilty, me for not knowing better and getting into a marriage with someone I wasn’t attracted to, and her for trying to force me into sexual relations,” James explained. “It took us a really long time to work together to develop what worked best for us. I mean, we already had JP so kids weren’t a problem, but we developed a strong platonic and emotionally intimate relationship. Dolley has a long term partner who is actually aromantic but not asexual. It works for us.”

“So it’s possible to be ga-”

“Asexual,” James corrected. 

“Is it possible for you to be asexual,” Thomas tested the word in his mouth. It certainly described parts of him, like not being sexually attracted to Martha even though he knew that she was beautiful, but it didn’t explain being near instantly attracted to Hamilton. “Is it possible to be asexual and not experience sexual attraction except to certain people?” 

“Of course,” said James. “Asexuality is a spectrum. And in any case, there are always anomalies. Now, is there something you want to tell me?” 

Thomas sighed, intertwined his fingers and pulled, relishing in the crack and stretch of it. He considered, however briefly, getting up and sprinting out the room, and maybe going home and never thinking about this again, getting rid of Hamilton and maybe pressing him off on another congressman. But he didn’t. Instead, he inhaled sharply. “I think I have a crush on my new assistant,” he uttered. It didn’t explain the magnitude of the situation, of just how much of an anomaly Hamilton was. “He’s a man, and I’m not, I'm not gay. I’m not usually sexually attracted to anyone.”

“You should see my therapist,” James suggested. “She’s really nice, and I think you could benefit from speaking with her.” 

Thomas put his head into his hands. “I’m not gay,” he said. 

“I know,” James said. “But you’re not straight either, and I think you need to talk to someone about that.” 

-X- 

The building was nondescript. The sign read,“Sybil Ludington and Associates.” Thomas paused before entering the door and adjusted his sunglasses. He was wearing sunglasses and a hoodie. He knew there were laws in place to protect Thomas, but he didn’t want to risk seeing anyone that he knew while at the office of a known sex therapist. 

He stepped inside quickly, glancing around for anyone who might have seen him. It was late, after six, which definitely helped with privacy issue. The office seemed tame, like a normal therapist office, not that Thomas was expecting anything different, but it still took him by surprise.

“Good evening,” the receptionist said cheerfully. 

“I’m here for an appointment with Dr. Ludington,” Thomas said, burning bright red. 

The receptionist just smiled at him. “Can I have your name please?” 

Thomas coughed, intentionally, so that he had a reason to look down and hide the color covering his face and neck. “It’s, Thomas Jefferson,” he mumbled, looking up at the receptionist. 

The receptionist smiled sympathetically, and then typed something into a computer. “Dr. Ludington will be with you in a moment. If you prefer, I can direct you to one of our private waiting rooms.” 

Thomas nodded enthusiastically. 

The receptionist smiled again. “It’s just the hallway, there's four doors on the left side, you’re free to enter box number 1.” 

“Thank you,” Thomas said quickly, and he all but ran into the hallway with the private waiting rooms. The waiting room was small, but not tiny, presumably large enough for a couple. It had a door on either side of the room, the other door presumably leading to where Thomas would have his therapy. The windows were heavily tinted, so that Thomas knew that no one could see anything even if they tried. 

He sat on the couch and glanced at the table. There were several magazines and journals on the table, and Thomas eyed them warily. He didn’t have to consider readig one for very long before there was a knock on the door.

Thomas stood and opened it. The woman who stood before him was well dressed and grinning. “Good evening,” she said with a smile.

“Hi,” Thomas grit out. He followed her down the hallway.

Her office was nice, and still not at all what she expected. He noticed s small, rainbow flag sitting in in a mason jar filled with pens. There were several quotes about love and other things on the wall, but Thomas’s eyes landed on a photo on Dr. Ludington’s desk. It was a picture of her and-

“Is that Deborah Sampson?” Thomas asked, fidgeting. 

“Yes,” Dr. Ludington answered, sitting down in her swivel chair. “She’s my long-term partner.”

“She’s a political journalist,” said Thomas, settling on the armchair, thankful that it wasn’t a couch. At least it isn’t cliche. 

“I am forbidden by HIPPA by discussing patients by name with my spouse. Furthermore, I know my partner would never out someone while they were seeking help. However if my connection makes you uncomfortable in any way, I can contact another one of my associates and we can get you set up with them.” 

Thomas shook his head. “I trust you because James trusts you. He wouldn’t have sent me here if he thought there was a risk,” he said. “And even if I didn’t, I don’t think I can go through this again. DC is a small town.”

Dr. Ludington chuckled. “It certainly is,” she agreed. “So, I understand that you’re probably nervous about this, but I would like to let you know that this is a sex positive space. You are free to explore who you are and your identity. I don;t judge, the walls won’t judge, whatever we say here is confidential unless you reveal to be ongoing abuse of a minor, disabled, or elderly person or present a threat of harm to yourself or others. Do you have any questions?” 

Thomas shook his head. 

“Alright, let’s begin,” said Dr. Ludington. “I’m not going to force you into telling me anything you don’t want, but I would like to give you to give me a general idea of what you want to work on.” 

Thomas pulled his fingers again, relishing in the _pop pop pop_. “I’ve never been particularly attracted to anyone, James thinks I might be asexual, but I have a crush, I think, on my new, male assistant.” 

“Okay,” Dr. Ludington wrote something down. “What would you say bothers you more at the moment: not being attracted to people on average or being attracted to a man?” 

“I think not being attracted to anyone has bothered me more, historically,” said Thomas. “I kinda knew I was weird when I was fourteen and didn’t care about the Playboy magazines my dad had. I never mastrubated or di any of the things that average teenagers did. My father asked me if I was gay a few times, and I always told him no. I wasn’t gay, I’m not gay. I didn’t have a girlfriend until my third year of college, but she broke up with me because I didn’t want sex. Then, my dad introduced me to my late wife, Martha. Martha’s dad had asked him about my sexuality because he wanted someone for his daughter that could “fix” her . My dad told him that I was probably gay and that hopefully a marriage between the two of us would result in some sort of, I don’t even know. Martha and I played Monopoly on our wedding night, and we made an agreement that we could have other sexual partners after two years of marriage and her being miserable. We had sex only four times, two of which resulted in our incredible girls. And I wouldn’t change my amazing kids for the world, but all four times it was absolutely horrible for me. I struggled to get it up, and I ended up prescribed with testosterone supplements that were supposed to help, but to be honest, they made me hard but did nothing for me mentally.” Thomas blushed at that. He wasn’t used to talking about erections in front of anyone, especially not women. He wrung his hands again, tugging tightly at his fingers.

“Thank you for being vulnerable,” Dr. Ludington said. “I know that must be hard to talk about, especially since you most likely haven’t talked about it with anyone.”

“And then there’s Hamilton, that’s my assistant,” Thomas explained. “He’s, I’m attracted to him. I think it might be just that he’s handsome, but I did get hard when I first saw him, something that hasn’t happened from non sexual stimulation or accident in a pretty long time, so I don’t know if that makes me less asexual or something .”

“Asexuality is a spectrum of sorts, and being aroused is sometimes a natural reaction our body has to seeing someone attractive, it doesn't mean you’re more or less asexual if that’s how you choose to identify.” Dr. Ludington gave him a comfortable smile. “There is, unfortunately, not much research into asexuality, but it is nevertheless a very valid sexuality, and you’re not absurd or wrong for not experiencing traditional sexual attraction.” 

“I, okay,” Thomas stared at the hardwood floors. 

“Do you think that being attracted to a man presents a different set of issues to you than being not sexually attracted to anyone?” Dr. Ludington asked. 

Thomas nodded. “I’m a Republican,” he said. “Even if I don’t agree with my party’s stance, per se, it’s still a huge part of our platform. I would lose my seat if anyone found out. And then, there’s the larger issue of me being black. I, my dad wouldn’t mind so much about me being gay because he’s white, but my mom would be extremely upset. It’s a culture thing, I think. I was born and raised in the black church, and I still attended when AIDS were affecting the black community heavily. Undoing all of that, and realizing that doing so would destroy my mother, makes me terrified.” 

“That’s understandable,” said Dr. Ludington. “I can offer you some resources for being gay in the black community. I don’t have the available right now, but perhaps we could discuss them on our next visit. As far as staying in the closet because of your work, I see no issue with that, especially in today’s political climate. It is near unprecedented to be gay in politics, and from my understanding, being a gay Republican adds an extra layer of newness to the issue. I do recommend researching Harvey Milk, though. If nothing, you may find comfort in the fact that there’s someone in a similar situation to you.” 

“Thank you,” Thomas said. He tugged as his fingers, feeling raw on the inside. How long had he been holding that in, afraid to tell anyone of his sexual identity for fear of repercussions.

Dr. Ludington glanced at the clock. “I’m afraid our time is up,”she said. “Would you like to book an appointment for this time next week?” 

Thomas nodded. “I think I would like that,” he said. He stood, exited the room and headed for the door to go back out. 

Even though he knew that he had so much more to learn, so much more to get over and work through, Thomas felt freer than he had in a long time, and that would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Want to end my meaningless, suffering filled existence? 
> 
> Comment please!


End file.
